


Transport

by Lovegingernuts



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Dirty Talk, Episode: s01e01 A Study in Pink, First Time, Imagination, Love, Masturbation, Other, Smut, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovegingernuts/pseuds/Lovegingernuts
Summary: Sherlock can't stop thinking about what John said at Angelo's. It leaves him wondering and more interested in what he has called transport up to this point. He breaks free from his boundaries with the help of John Watson.





	

Sherlock can’t sleep. He moves around uneasily in the bed, sweating. His eyes are tightly shut, as if it would help him fall sleep faster. He’s stressed, he haven’t slept for days and he knows that he has to now or he will lose his shit which he doesn’t want to do now that John Watson is living with him. 

It’s their first night together and Sherlock can’t stop thinking about the happenings of last night. Especially at Angelo’s. How John asked him about his relationship status, and later on they discussed the fact that Sherlock barely sleeps and eats as seldom as possible. It’s transport. Just as everything that has to do with sex also is. They discussed that too. John couldn’t believe that Sherlock doesn’t do anything beside his work, and he actually asked him a little distrectly if he never did something pleasurable at all. It made Sherlock uncomfortable. He got a little petulant, and when John noticed he stopped asking. At the same time it was a relief, Sherlock felt a weird urge to keep discussing it. He had never talked about that kind of thing before, and now there was someone who brought up the subject, and actually seemed interested to know. Why?

It is this question that keeps spinning in Sherlock’s mind this night and makes him unable to sleep. Why had John Watson asked him about all those things? Sherlock believed he was trying to ask him out, and he panicked and said he wasn’t interested in a relationship. Then John said he wasn’t trying to ask him out. It’s all so confusing and Sherlock is trying to find a logical explanation to his acting. Why do humans have to be so complicated? Bees are so much easier to understand. That’s why Sherlock likes bees. They are simple creatures but still very fascinating.

“So you don’t do… anything?” John’s voice echoes in Sherlock’s head and he’s getting more and more sweaty. The bedsheet is stuck to his back, and it’s a really uncomfortable feeling. “Nothing at all?” Sherlock eyes snap open, he feels how he’s growing hard down there. Of course he’s got a boner before, but not because thinking about a cute army doctor asking him out about his sexuality and all those things he considers transport and has avoided almost all his life. 

The fabric of the blanket feels heavy against his hardening prick, and it gets even worse for every second. Sherlock covers his face with his hands and takes deep breaths, trying to ignore the throbbing feeling. “So, you don’t ever have sex?” he hears John’s voice in his head, but exactly that he didn’t say at Angelo’s. Sherlock is imagining how John would sound asking that question. “You never masturbate? Ever?” Sherlock clenches his teeth and he feels close to tears. This is horrible. “You don’t know how to do it? Do you want me to show you?” John’s voice is soft and stable and it’s all around Sherlock. It’s like he’s floating away in a dream wrapped up in John’s voice that now is filled with desire. “I think you know what to do, Sherlock. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself. Let me talk you through it.” 

“John” Sherlock whispers to himself and feels how his cock twitches a little extra when he utters his name. “This is your first time in many, many years. The sensation will be extreme. It will almost hurt, but I promise you you’ll find pleasure in it. Trust me. Let your hand run down your chest slowly, and when you get down you touch the top gently.” 

Sherlock takes a deep breath and lets right hand caress his chest. He touches his sensitive nipples which are very stiff before moving on down to his abdomen. The line of hair between his navel and crotch kittle against his fingertips. He follows the line down to the bush of pubic hair that haven’t been shaved for quite a while. Then he gently touches the tip of his cock with all that pre-cum and it’s like an electric shock traveling through him. “See, I told you. Tense. Just try to relax and it’ll be fine. If you’re too tense you’ll come within half a minute, I estimate. Let’s make something out of this. Don’t you agree?”

Sherlock lets out a moan and bites his lower lip in an attempt to not sound too loud. John’s room is right above his and the last thing he wants is to let John know that he was wrong. Apparently he does masturbate, now. 

“I could take my clothes off and join you, but since our goal is to drag this out, I suggest I just keep talking.” Of course Sherlock can’t stop the image of a naked John touching himself appearing in his mind along with the sound of his voice. “Well then.” The corner of Sherlock’s lip twitch in a gentle smile, and suddenly it all feels very good. All the worry is gone, it’s not transport. It’s just human, and Sherlock is human after all. 

“Don’t be so wimpy, Sherlock. Just grab it. But do it gently. I know that you know what to do. Didn’t you have sexual education in school?” Sherlock starts to play with his balls, squeezing them gently and feeling every signal from his nerves to his brain. Every struck of electricity. Every shiver. He sees John in front of him. Now he’s apparently in the shower and water is running down his body as he strokes his shaft. He’s got a big cock. That’s actually a fact. Sherlock could deduce when he walked into the lab when they met that John has quite a member down there by the way he walks. Now Sherlock grins to himself, feeling stupid that one of the first things he deduces about someone is if he’s got a big cock or not. 

“Grab it. I know you want it.” Sherlock grabs it and gasps from the intense feeling. He hasn’t felt this since his early teens, and now it seems his body is making up for all the pleasure that he’s missed through the years. He starts to stoke it carefully. He feels so much from just so little. It’s totally overwhelming. The blanket is in his way preventing his hand to touch all of it, so he pulls it off. It feels so good when the cold air hits his warm, sweaty body and he’s got enough space to move his hand.

“You’ve got a nice cock. How have you had the self-control to not touch it? I wouldn’t have that self-control if you were mine.” 

“John.” Sherlock moves his hand up and down slowly, slowly and feels the pulsating in his hand. He knows he can’t do this for long. He’s already started to pant, in need of air and his face distorts in pleasure. He grabs the wet bedsheet with his left hand and allows himself to move a little quicker. “Well, you’ll come within seconds. But, it’s your life. I would just want to watch your desperate face a little longer.”

“J-John…” 

“I want to taste your cock. I hope you let me someday. You want me to be yours, right? I could be all yours, and I could do whatever you’d ask me to do.” 

Sherlock’s mouth is wide open as he gets closer and closer to the edge. A picture of John spurting his cum in the shower and gasp desperately for air appears in front of him. “I came for you.” At those words Sherlock lets out a muffled scream, his cock tensions to the max and he feels how warm cum spurts onto his stomach. It goes on for what seems forever. It twitches and pulsates and lets out batch after batch.

When it finally stops he begins to relax and tries to catch his breath. He smiles to himself but then he’s sight becomes blurry of tears. It felt so good and he hasn’t felt something like it for years. Finally he has allowed himself to respect his urges. Thanks to John Watson. 

Sherlock panics when he hears a knock on the door. “Sherlock, you okay? You screamed. Everything’s alright?” 

“Erm, yes. Just fine. Perfect. Just can’t sleep, you know. Don’t know what you heard.” 

“Okay. You sure?”

“Oh yes.” 

“Well, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”


End file.
